Blood on the snow Prose in The Call of The Tree | World Anvil

Blood on the snow

The sounds of footsteps on the metal floor.
The rattle of the lock.
The creaking of the locker door.   The sound of the paper.
A long sigh.   "Well, a job's a job."   A rustle of cloth.
Footsteps.  
  Wind whistling above the trees.
The crunching of the snow moving farther and farther.
The steps stop.   Bonfire crackling outside.
The snoring coming from the tent.
Footsteps getting closer.   The sound of the zipper.
A gasp, a growl, a struggle, a scream.
Heavy breathing.   The wind stopped.
Footsteps moving away, getting quieter and quieter.   Silence.

Cover image: Call of the Tree by Revyera

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